Come As You Are
by bellegunness
Summary: Modern day Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love
1. Chapter 1

Another afternoon spent locked in her room, most teens would take that as punishment but Violet was content there. Granted, full roam of the house without a Harmon-esc Spanish inquisition would have been nice, but apparently with the hypocritical adulterer and selfish ginger incubator came 'rules'. That was amusing seeing as she was the only one in the house that didn't need boundaries. If parents could make rules, kids should be able to come up with a few of their own. On Violet's list: 1. Don't cheat. Don't think about cheating, don't talk about cheating, don't dream about thinking about talking about cheating. 2. Hands off the help, especially the old, creepy looking maid. 3. Try to treat your kids equally, you self absorbed cunt. 4. Eating organic and using as many chemical-free things as possible doesn't make you a good person, it makes you gullible to think it'll improve your quality of life.

Grinning to herself, Violet couldn't help but be amused by her disdain for her parents. Sure, every teen hated their folks at some point, but she definitely felt more justified in her annoyance. Crossing her bedroom to slip her Ipod into it's dock, she spun through the playlists and settled on 'fuck off' which was mainly comprised of girl bands that made her feel empowered and pissed off. Turning it as loud as it would go, the cocky smirk she reserved for Tate mostly these days crossed her thin lips as she spun around and began dancing around her room as she stripped from the thick knit sweater she wore to school. Leaving it on the chair in front of her vanity, she pulled her knee length floral dress over her head and flung it over in the hamper's general direction. Shuffling to her bed in beat with the song playing, for the first time in a while Vi let herself feel fun and feisty. Falling onto the mattress, she tugged at the gray leggings and kicked off her black granny-like heels (well, if you count a chunky inch to be 'heel' worthy). Laying in her bra and underwear, Violet's hair framed her face as she shook her bed with her attempts at dancing, her hands lightly beating the bed as she lost herself in the music.

"Violet!" Her mother's voice made her flinch, immediately dragging her out of her catatonic state. Pushing herself up, Vi grabbed her over-sized sweater and slipped it on, closing it and holding it tight as she moved to open her door.

"What?" Looking completely annoyed as her mother appeared in her doorway once it was open to her, Vivien's pathetic expression looked hopeful before she got a glimpse of her daughter's attire.

"What are you doing?" Outstretching her arms to offer the teen a plate of freshly baked organic oatmeal raisin cookies and a glass of soy milk, Viv really did seem to be trying a little more these days.

"Making bombs to hand out for my homeroom's Christmas party." Her tone was as dry as her mom's cookies that she refused, taking the glass instead and chugging half of it before returning it to the older woman. "Is that all?"

"I'm going out for a bit, if you need anything I'll have my phone on me." Taking a step and turning to walk down the hall, Vivien stopped herself and turned to her daughter's bedroom door once more. "You know.. there's a lot to do in this town. Outside. Away from this house. You don't have to stay in your bedroom for the remainder of your high school years."

There was no need to respond to Vivien, her face said it all with it's expressionless way, Violet stared at the woman like she was speaking Russian, merely blinking in her direction until she turned and left for real this time. Rolling her eyes as the door shut, Violet scoffed as she locked herself away again, letting the sweater slide off her shoulders in front of the door as she crossed to the closet. An amused grin crept across her dry lips as her eyes fell upon a slip dress (bigger emphasis on slip than dress) as Hole happened to hit the speakers. It was amusing to her that her crush was the teen embodiment of Kurt, and while she was no Courtney, it would be fun to play pretend. Reaching around to unclasp her bra, she let it hit the floor before reaching for the white silky number. Pulling it over her head, she couldn't help but immediately feel out of place. She wasn't sexy, it wasn't in her vocabulary, no matter how hard she tried but who would want to try? She was perfect the way she was, she should believe it after repeating after her father growing up. Sure! Shoving a mantra down your child's throat was the sure fire way to assure them of their inner beauty. Idiot.

Taking a seat in front of her vanity, Violet for once got lost in thoughts that didn't revolve around Tate, instead she digressed to Boston and the boy there. Idly smearing red lipstick across her lips, her hand moved to grab a thin comb to attach to her hair, back combing sporadically to make her Courtney Love persona complete. Staring at her self in the mirror, she saw only memories of a 13 year old girl who actually wanted to fit in for a hot second. Wearing make up she demanded her mother get (clearly it got good use since years later it was still hardly touched), skinny jeans, a cliche 'fashionable' top, even a push up bra with padding to really finish off the fake look she wore for all of a week.

His name was Jacob and he was gorgeous.

It was her first and last crush, besides Tate of course, but they were completely incomparable. He had passed her a note in Biology and she was hooked. She was no where near the type of girl he went for normally, but she could be, or so she foolishly thought. He wanted to hang out that Friday so in preparation for the momentous occasion she dressed up all week, each day more extreme than the last. Dragging his attention her way more and more, the big day had quickly come and the note left in her locker told her to meet him at a small ice cream spot a few blocks away from school. She rarely got excited over things, but this was one to go down in the books. Rushing out of the school, she had nearly sprinted the entire way there.

Looking down with a hint of a tear in her eyes, Violet was back to reality and staring at the scars on her forearms. That was the day she had turned off everything. Her desire to please others. Her desire to want anything. Desire, period. Dragging a fingertip across the oldest scar, she let out a quiet sigh before turning back to the mirror. Grabbing a black eyeliner pencil, her small frame leaned forward to get a better look as she started heavily laying on the war paint.

"You are the biggest freak in the entire world!"

The words stung far more than the smacks across her face, the fists in her ribs, the kicks to her shins. There was a group of 10, Jacob heading it, and his band of merry whores fell in line. Ripping her floral tunic to shreds, the group had left her for dead in the alley behind the shop, not giving her a reason as to why they assaulted her aside from her 'deserving' it. She had drug herself home, a five block walk that took 10 minutes had taken almost an hour after the incident and while normally she would hate her mom being home, the one day she had needed her the woman was out. She had sat in the tub, shower on full blast hitting her cowered body as she sat, knees to chest, letting the hot water wash away all the blood and dirt.

Swallowing hard as she dropped the pencil, Violet shot up from the chair, crossed the room to her Ipod and changed from the current Breeders song to Hole "Letter To God", it was the song she listened to the first time she ever took to self healing. Sinking to the floor next to her bed, her hand automatically went for her nightstand drawer as if on it's own accord. Pulling out a razor blade, she looked at the oldest scar and opened it once more. Replacing the blade with a cigarette, she tried to feel nothing as she lit it, staring at the blood drip down her skin and onto her flimsy dress. The tears stung almost as much as the smoke hitting her eyes, and with that she shut them, letting her head fling back against the side of the mattress as she let herself cry for the first time in quite some time. She didn't even know why, she didn't hurt, if anything, she felt nothing.

_**this will be my first attempt at a multi-chapter piece**_


	2. Chapter 2

After what seemed like an eternity sitting on the hard wood floors, an ashtray full of cigarette butts was all that remained of her walk down memory lane. Tears were dried, eyeliner smudged and eyes slightly blood shot. If anything she could just tell her parents she was in her room getting high, that'd go over great. Honestly, she wondered if anything would phase them anymore. After Halloween the whole balance of the household seemed to shift, and while she couldn't care less, Violet wondered if her suggestion to her mother to just get divorced had finally been a glimmer of hope in the woman's eyes. Quite frankly, if Ben was her husband and he had done what he had to Violet instead of Vivien, that fucker would be out on his ass, shit thrown in the front yard, maybe even set some shit on fire.

_If you love someone you should never hurt them. Never.._

Pushing herself up and off the floor, Violet discarded her mess, pouring her cigarette butts into the now empty pack and dumping the ashes out the window. Standing beside it for a minute, she looked out over the town she could see from her second story bedroom and breathed in the smoggy LA air, the crisp breeze that made it feel like the end of spring rather than the beginning of fall. She missed Boston, the seasons, the people, the food, the life she grew up with. There was nothing for her in this sham of a town, nothing but this house that fascinated her more and more on a daily basis, and Tate of course. Closing the window, she glanced down at the once white silky slip dress she had put on, the lace hem hitting mid thigh was fraying from where she had nervously picked at it while sitting next to her bed. Blood from her newly opened scar tainted a few spots on the left side, some black eyeliner she had wiped off after forgetting she'd been wearing it was rubbed off on the right side of the ensemble. She probably should change, she thought, she looked ridiculous. Not even Courtney Love could pull this off, she merely wore it cause no one could tell her otherwise.

Stopping halfway to her closet, figuring she should probably change before her mom inevitably came home and brought up dinner, she knew if Vivien saw her dressed like a coked out rocker she'd most likely barge in and demand a piss test. Pausing in front of her vanity, Violet turned slightly, angling herself as she examined her appearance in the mirror. It was easier to wear clothes that hid everything, but when she did wear form fitting things, it still did nothing for her. Pressing her hand against her stomach, holding the smooth fabric against her skin as she eyed her small chest, she let out an almost laugh before turning to face forward, hands sliding to her hips to hold the fabric there, framing the almost-curves. How in the world was she ever supposed to lose her virginity if she looked like a 12 year old her whole life? Granted, it wasn't on the top of her to do list, but lately it was definitely something she thought of more frequently. She figured that was common in teenagers once they actually found themselves attracted to someone. How could she expect Tate to be attracted to her the way she was to him, how could she want him to see her as a sexual object if she couldn't fathom being one? The options were as such: 1. he wanted to fuck her, and that made him a quasi pedophile since she looked like Dakota Fanning in Dr. Seuss or 2. he was pretending to be attracted to her and this was all a cruel joke.

A knocking at the door interrupted her thoughts and her not so productive attempts to change. Crossing the wooden floor quietly, her bare feet hardly making a nose, she bent down swiftly to grab her large sweater again. "What?"

"Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies?"

Smirking at the voice she knew all too well, Violet stopped slipping her arm through the wool sleeve and dropped it on the floor again. The soft hairs on the back of her neck rose immediately at the thought of him seeing her like this, and that was almost as thrilling as him in a gimp suit. Licking over her awkwardly bright red lips as she unlocked the door, Violet opened the door to see Tate's cocky grin which upon seeing her quickly faded. The hairs rose again as his eyes moved impossibly slow over her body, his body language shifting from calm and collected to .. nervous? His thumbs that were loosely hanging in his torn jeans pockets were now clenched against his fingers, knuckles whiter than his already pale skin; his deliciously defined jaw clenched as he stood stiff as a statue, drinking in the appearance of his friend whom he'd never imagined looking like that. Sure, he'd fantasized about her, there were a lot of questionable things she'd wear in his head, but this was not one of them.

"Tagalongs." Doing her best to seem unphased by how he was looking at her, like she was a piece of meat, Vi cocked an eyebrow at his silence. "The peanut butter ones? Shit, what kind of girl scout are you?"

Turning and walking away, her hips moving a little more than normal as she did so, the girl finally allowed herself to smile in amusement. Changing her grrl power playlist to one she'd set specifically for him, comprised of grunge and more mellow songs than she typically listened to, Violet turned and leaned against the edge of her dresser as she waited for the hint of color to return to the boy's face. Maybe she was wrong? Maybe there was a third option, maybe she wasn't as non-erotic as she thought. Maybe Tate was a recently escaped convict who hadn't seen anything with a vagina in over a decade and she was the closest thing he found.

"Rape me." Sitting down on the edge of her bed, finally relaxing after getting accustomed to the girl's appearance, his cocky grin returning to his face as her cheeks flushed. Nodding towards the speakers next to her, his hands gripped her mattress as he leaned forward. "Nirvana. It's one of my favorite songs."

"Right." Fucker. Somehow he always knew just how to get a rise out of her, just when she thought she had the upper hand. Lifting her bare leg, exposed to him more than ever before, she nudged his knee with her foot in a weak attempt to flirt. "Are those the only pants you own? You know grunge is dead, right?"

"Well if that's not the pot calling the kettle black.." In his defense, his wardrobe was in fashion when he first got it. She had no excuse for her 'style', unless she was secretly an 80 year old with the occasional band tee. Licking over his lips as his long fingers wrapped around the girl's ankle, his hungry eyes crept over her body again, examining her smooth leg he had a grip on, his eyes lead the way followed by his hand, firmly sliding up her calf. Smirking broadly as his eyes hit the end of the dress, her legs parted just enough to give a teasing peek of her underwear, his hand stops behind Violet's knee and tugs her thin frame away from the dresser and to the edge of the bed where he sat. "Speaking of black.."

"Look with your eyes, not your hands." Doing her best to be unphased by practically being eye fucked, Vi stood between Tate's parted legs, her small hands resting on his broad shoulders as his held her hips carefully. Staring down at his dark eyes, she tried hard to read what he was thinking. Was he staring at her with lust, or were his eyes half lidded because he was bored and in cooperation with being on a bed he just wanted to sleep? Giving into her inner girly girl, Violet bit lightly on her crimson painted bottom lip as her hands playfully shoved her friend's shoulders back. "Speaking of looking.. you didn't even laugh in response to my get up."

"Whoa buddy, slow down, I'm not that easy." Stopping himself from falling back on her bed, Tate grinned up at her, taking yet another opportunity to stare hungrily at her body just barely covered with the flimsy fabric. Sliding his hands down from her hips to her thighs, his eyebrow furrowed as he caught sight of the blood and black smudges. He opted to hold off on asking about it since right now she clearly wanted to play the devil's advocate to his hormones. "Well, Courtney, I think you look down right filthy." Smirking as he carefully ran his fingertip along the lacy hem, ghostly tracing her thigh in doing so. His eyes returned to her face, he couldn't believe his normally modest dressed girl was wearing such a revealing outfit, nor could he believe her letting him touch her. He was mentally tapping her out of this 5 minutes ago, she was winning. "Do you feel filthy?"

"Oh yeah, how did you know? I feel slutty and horny. God nothing turns me on more than Chris Cornell's voice. You must be a mind reader." Rolling her eyes as her words come out completely monotonous, Violet gives into her desire and lifts her fingers to Tate's head. Grinning as her fingers comb through his wavy locks, she lets out a quiet laugh. She had been wanting to do that for weeks! It wasn't nearly as soft as she thought it would be, but then again he was a boy. When did they ever shower? And even when they did, how often did they condition? Tugging lightly at the dyed tangled parts, she mentally pushed past her comfort zone as he pulled her body impossibly closer. She was doing her best to remember breathing as his cheek rested against her flat stomach, his hands still holding onto her thighs, inwardly justifying he was just helping her stay balanced so she wouldn't fall over, or forward rather. "What do you want to do?"

_Don't ask questions you already know the answer to. You're smarter than that._

If he could melt, he would have been a hot messy puddle on her sheets, but his form was still solid. His mind was racing, however, trying to answer questions and make excuses for things he was currently feeling. Thinking, however, was increasingly difficult as his focus was being constantly tugged to Violet's hands combing through his hair. It felt like what he assumed heaven did. This was the closest he'd ever get. Opening his heavy eyes, the boy tilted his head up, resting his chin just above her belly button in order to stare at her face as best as he could from this angle, still refusing to put space between them. He was a broody, scary, angry, intimidating animal, how was he suddenly a cuddly Labrador puppy in her hands? Not that he was complaining, he had spent his entire life trying to find this feeling, and now it was his. What did he want to do? There were twenty million answers he could give right now, but he was smart. The more he pushed something he knew she wasn't 100% comfortable with, the farther she'd push him. Away. Deciding to push the envelope in a different direction, he smiled devilishly at her and the song blaring through the speakers behind her. "Dance?"

Not having a chance to protest, Violet non-verbally consented, allowing Tate to practically pick her up as he stood in front of her, hiking her dress up slightly as he did so. Keeping her hands tucked into the blankets of hair on his head, she stared up at the boy who's arms loosely rested around her waist, his body pressed gently against hers as they swayed to Nirvana. She wondered if she was his first, or had he done this before? He didn't seem like the dancing type, and like hell if he'd actually go to a dance. An organized function? Maybe once Hell froze over. They were kindred like that, refusing to give into conformist activities organized by Nazi administrators who refused to let individuals be just that - individual. Still, the tiniest part of her mind flickered with an image of the two of them, doing just this, only in formal wear. Prom? Over her dead body. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

"You know, you look a lot like Kurt right now." Breaking the silence once the song had finished, she let her hands fall to his shoulders once more but refused to break her body away from his. Running fingertips along the fuzzy sleeves of his mustard cardigan, her lips pulled into a smirk as she slid her hands over his chest and up to his shoulders again, freeing them of the extra fabric. Not putting up a fight, Tate let the girl disrobe him, allowing his sweater to fall on the floor behind him. Laughing as her hands brought a chill to his warm stomach, his eyes shut while his senses took her touch to memory. Arms hung loosely by his side, he had stopped swaying to the music which was a little faster now anyway.

"You're much more beautiful than Courtney, and I trust you won't shoot me." Conspiracy theories brought grins to both of their faces. Raising a hand to her cheek, he brushed his thumb against her pale cheek before lowering his head, breaking the little space they had left between them. Kissing her colorful lips, Tate let out a heavy breath against them as her hand tightened on his waist. Sliding his free arm around her again, he held his large palm against the small of her back, pulling her hips harder against his as he leaned into the kiss. A series of chills shocked his system as his normally mute friend let the tiniest moan escape. He would take cues from her, but holding back was impossible now. Pushing her backwards, he walked slowly with her, his long legs sliding between hers with each step until her ass hit the dresser once more. Grabbing Violet's waist firm without being too rough, it took all he had to not let go and be as aggressive as he was with everything else. Still, the tiniest bit of humanity remained in him, and though he could kill an intruder without blinking, the thought of adding any more scars or bruises to the young girl's body stopped him in his tracks. That and her hands shoving him backwards. Dropping to the edge of the bed where he originally sat, he did his very best to catch his breath as his head shook. "I'm sorry. Sorry. Too fast."

Grabbing her Ipod again, Violet quickly changed the playlist to it's first setting, 'fuck off'. Shoving it back in the dock, she all but lunged at Tate. Kissing and shoving, grabbing and pulling, it had all brought back the real reason she had put on the dress. The make up. The attitude. She couldn't be fucked with when she had it in her to take control. Knowing what to do with that control was optional, but how hard could it be? Just reference movies and erotic literature, Vi, how hard can this be? "No." Speaking to him as well as her inner dialogue, shutting them both up, her lean legs moved to straddle Tate's lap, sitting down facing him, she refused to give him a chance to protest this time. Driving her mouth against his full force, she let the music motivate her. Joan Jett and Cherie Curry's voices prompting her to find her inner bad ass, knowing she was just as young as the rockers when they started, as naive as Cherie to the ways of the world. Of men. Still, if she could personify sex why the hell couldn't Violet?

_Come on ladies you got nothing to lose!_

All but ripping his shirt as she pulled at the bottom hem, tugging it hastily up, Violet broke their harsh kiss long enough to undress his torso completely. A quick flashback to the basement. Latex uncovering his sweaty torso, being shoved and pinned. It was her turn. Slamming his back against the bed with all the force she could muster, Vi laid on top of her friend, returning heated kiss after heated kiss while her hands explored his chest, grabbing and scratching his skin with frustration. Pushing, grinding, thrusting her hips in any way she thought would bring her any relief, she paused as his belt hit her pelvic bone for the last time. Sitting up on his lap, she did her best to hide her grin as the growing bulge in his pants pressed firm against her. Undoing the clasp and ripping the entire belt out of the loops and to the wayside like a magician would do with a table cloth, leaving dishes in place when he was done.

His mind raced. He had sex before, he fucked around with bitches, he knew what to do, what to expect, how to get off while getting the other person off as well if he felt so inclined. This was different, however, this was new to him, she was different. He'd never categorize her as a 'bitch' he randomly hooked up with, he'd never refer to what they were doing as 'fucking around'. Even in the most rushed, aggressive method, what he did with Violet was different than just getting off. Breathing heavily as she commenced grinding against his lap, still perched, her head thrown back as her hands roamed, groping her own body since his were still frozen on her thighs. Was she really grinding to the music? Impressive coordination. Licking over his lips, he cautiously grabbed the bottom of her dress. He was half naked, shouldn't she be? He was approaching unfamiliar territory, though and that scared him. The last thing he wanted was for this to end, and if he undressed her before she wanted to be, she could by all rights get up and demand he leave. Settling for sliding his hands under the dress, he mentally patted himself on the back for such a quick compromise under such pressure. Firmly holding onto Violet's perfectly defined hips, he stares at her face, thriving more on her expressions than what's going on to his body. Stopping her methodical grinding to show her how it felt to move together, his hips rolled up as he forced hers to shift against his in unison. Chills again.

Moans were becoming something Violet was getting all too comfortable with as Tate continued to turn up her inner thermometer. Working up to a new height of labored breathing as the blood rushed through every inch of her petite body, she was thankful he couldn't tell she was actually blushing by just how wet she'd already gotten. He was no idiot, surely he'd realize it sooner rather than later, she chose distraction as her method of attack. Pulling the slip dress up and over her head, she tossed it to join his clothes on the floor before returning her hands to his body, or pants rather. As the song stopped, her fingers faltered with the button and zipper. Her need for this was still there, but a hint of nervousness was creeping in past her bad ass facade. It was either Tate was one hell of a mind reader, or luck was working in her favor. Giving the reigns temporarily to the boy, she smirked up as he threw her down on the bed, fluidly moving to shift their positions. Resting her head against the pillow as she laid on her bed the right way finally, she waited impatiently as Tate removed his own pants. His boxers were about as sexy as her bikini cuts, but that was definitely not a concern right now.

"We can't have sex."

Her words stopped him in his tracks. Did that mean leave, or they could do everything but..? He was answered as her legs parted, making room for his body to rest between. Evading her attempts to bring his face to hers, he dropped his mouth instead to her neck, licking her hot, salty skin before kissing his way down. She had tasted much better in real life than in his fantasies. Laughing inside at how this was panning out just as he had told her dad in their previous sessions, he wondered if Ben would be able to read the guilt on his face next time they met up. Quickly blocking her father out of the equation to avoid awkwardness, he bit at her collar bone, sucking the skin into his mouth to extract another moan hoping that would leave Ben as just a figment of his imagination. Grinning against her skin as she did just as he wanted, he lowered his mouth, kissing his way down her sternum, his dark eyes rose to her face. Watching just how much she was enjoying this was all he needed to get off if she later decided getting him down to his boxers was where she ended things.

Surely if she had known just how amazing this felt, 'virgin' would have been as laughable to her as it was to Addie. Arching her back as Tate's hand and mouth attacked her bare breasts, she had to be thankful for her mother's impeccable timing in leaving the house. She was never very loud in getting off, but then again she never had assistance. Writhing against the bed, her body shifted under his, doing her best to get more contact. Rewarded with his hips pressing against her's once more, she shocked herself with how loud she gasped, forcing Tate to stop in his tracks out of fear he had done something wrong. His 'deer in headlights' expression was enough to make her laugh, which in turn made his engorged cock pressing against her less alarming. Still nervous out of pure ignorance to the situation, the constant blaring of tough girl vocals helped reaffirm her independence.

"This is the first time I've.."

Stopping herself as it was probably as blatantly obvious, Violet's hand blindly dove into Tate's boxers. Lifting her upper body as best as she could, Vi used her free hand to grab the boy's neck, using more force this time to make sure his mouth made it's way to her's again. Hoping to distract him from her awkward strokes with lust filled kisses, her body continued squirming under his. Did people ever die from getting so worked up then not being touched? Would she self implode? This wasn't the time to find out. Her brain had apparently shut off it's connection to her lungs as his hand pushed past her underwear, by the time she remembered it was vital to survival to partake in oxygen/carbon dioxide exchange her head was thrown back, gasping for a steady breath. Focusing on getting him off was damn near impossible as his fingers expertly found their way inside of her, curling and thrusting in all the right ways. Had he watched her do this to herself before or was he just that experienced that he knew exactly what she needed?

Helping her nervous grip, Tate's hips moved against her hand while his own worked to pump his fingers inside of the girl. Moaning against her throat as he got dangerously close to cuming inside his boxers, he was doing his best to hold off until he could help her orgasm. It was always more rewarding that way, for him at least. His concentration was immediately broken, his body frozen as Violet continued to wiggle unaware of the door downstairs. Staring at her face as her mom's voice shoved her back into reality, Violet gasped at Vivien's warning that she was home. Fear covered the young girl's face as she hopelessly looked at the boy hovering over her for an answer as to how to deal with this situation. He answered with his lips pressing hard against hers as his fingers plummeted into her, pumping hard and fast as his thumb occasionally brushed over her clit. Shocking himself as he spontaneously came as she did, he chalked it up to her fluids coating his hand as she screamed in pleasure against his mouth, thankfully muffling the majority of it.

"Violet," Her voice was far too audible now as her footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, Vivien stopped at the door. "I'm making dinner, are you hungry?"

"I'm naked!" Her exclamation stopped her mom who was already turning the door knob. Tate was already out of bed, scampering to collect his clothes and throw them on. This made Violet smile ear to ear despite her new found exhaustion. "I just took a shower. I'm starving, thanks."

The last bit was directed at Tate who couldn't look more proud or more guilty. Without another word, Vivien left the doorway and returned downstairs. She would probably just chalk it up to her daughter being a teen, and thus a freak. Sitting up in her bed, her hair messier than before, lipstick smeared equally on their faces, Violet couldn't help but accomplished as she watched Tate dress. See? Nothing to fear.

"Can I see you later?" He was leaning down to kiss her forehead, but stopped as her head moved. Lighting, lovingly kissing her lips, he smiled against them before pulling away.

"Yes, but I'm tired of the basement. Come through the window after they go to bed." Her voice didn't hint of suggestion, it was very a-matter-of-fact. His smirk, however, forced her to roll her eyes and clarify. "This isn't going to happen every time you're in my room, jackass."

"A boy can dream." Smiling at her as he started to pull his cardigan on, he stopped as she reached for it.

"Leave the sweater, Kurt."

"Only if you promise to wear that dress again. Courtney."

They both laughed and rolled their eyes, almost in unison.


	3. Chapter 3

Diplomatic wasn't the word. Was there even a word for it? How do you answer a question but not really answer it? Whatever it was, and however you did it, Tate had it down pat clearly.

Violet's mind was still reeling from the afternoon's activities, and while the majority of her was happier than she could even fathom, there were so many questions to be answered. As usual. A day didn't go by that Tate entered her world and didn't leave without making her question at least half of what had gone on. Maybe that's part of what made her care about him so much? Yes he was dark and wound and mysterious.. but he was ridiculously charming. He had a way about him that despite wanting to punch him in the throat, she couldn't help but want to hug him in the same breath.

Hugging him was nice. Memories flooded her mind even harder, filling her frontal cortex of Halloween night specifically. How scared she had been, but how it all seemed to dissipate when Tate wrapped his long, surprisingly strong arms around her. How excited she had been for their very first official date even if it was just them on the beach for a couple hours. How absolutely devastated she was by being rejected by the only man she had ever tried to offer herself to. More questions. The afternoon had been completely unexpected, especially after how things on the beach had gone. How could he get aroused today but not that night? Her eyes shifted to the cracked window, then to her bedroom door. Lights were still lit in her parents room, but everything was silent, how long was he going to wait before sneaking up?

"Don't leave," scribbling the words on a clean sheet of paper in her notebook, she left it open on the bed. If her parents happened to come in while she was downstairs and saw it, they'd think nothing of it, but Tate would understand. Reaching for the sweater she left at the end of the bed, Violet got up, absent mindedly tightening the drawstring on her pajama pants as she walked barefoot to the door. Quiet opening it, she peeked out before proceeding. She could be stealthy when she wanted, and right now it was imperative. Quickly tip toeing down the hallway, she expertly made her way down the staircase without making noise. Looking around to the kitchen to see if Ben or Vivien had snuck down for a late night snack before moving forward, Violet crept around the corner and into her father's study. Everything was more alluring in the dark, the boring furniture that didn't phase her in the day time were now just curves and bumps in the night, playing tricks on her eyes as she walked past the chairs and couch to his filing cabinet.

Was it shady to read in your boyfriend's patient file? Perhaps. Necessary? Absolutely. He had never given her a reason to not believe him, but not answering her questions left her no other option. Those kids had known Tate, and for as well as she knew him by now, she could tell his face was genuinely sincere when he said he had no idea who they were. Flipping open his folder, Vi pulled her long hair into a quick, messy ponytail and moved with the papers to the window to read with assistance of the moonlight.

_Possible psychosis._

Re-reading her father's chicken scratch, the young girl looked a bit confused as she tried to remember what 10th grade Psych had taught her. As far as she knew he wasn't delusional, and while his dreams about shooting his classmates might be construed as persistent bizarre delusions, that was fairly questionable. Hell, she could be possibly psychotic if that were the case. Who hadn't dreamed of something fucked up once or twice? Hallucinatory voices? Not as far as she knew. Sighing in frustration, she flipped to the front, comforted that he really hadn't told her father anything she hadn't already known. "Mrs. Langdon", of course that was his mom's name, unless she remarried that wouldn't have changed, but the first name on the front of his papers stopped Violet in her tracks. First of all, he never told her who his mother was which was beyond peculiar seeing as well, she was literally right next door. Second, why was the information on his paperwork not listing Constance as his mom?

"What are you doing?"

Nearly seizing with the shock of sound in the silent room, Vi quickly shut the folder as she turned, doing her best to nonchalantly slip it in between her side and the sweater she was wearing. Sighing a small breath of relief as it was just Tate, she stopped herself from her instinctual smile that he'd always brought to her face in his arrival. She had almost completely forgotten in the 2 seconds it took to recognize him, and that smile, that he had lied to her. Not even, he lied by lack of omission.

"What part of 'don't leave' don't you understand?" Her tone was quiet, but harsh, as she turned to return his folder to the filing cabinet. Shutting it with a faint snap of the drawer, metal to metal, she continued staring it for a moment. Who lied about the smallest things, such as family, but was straight forward about pleading guilty to bigger things such as attempted murder? After all, that crazy bitch didn't cut herself in half. "Anyway, why the hell would you walk through the house knowing my parents are awake? Are you trying to get caught?"

Stopping the girl from leaving the study with a carefully placed hand on her chest, Tate's confusion and anger radiated clearly from his face. Sure, getting upset about getting caught was normal, but she was acting like he had just set her dog on fire. Pushing her back to the chair her father always sat in during their sessions, Tate stood firm in front of her, refusing to allow her to get up.

"What the hell is your problem?" His tone wasn't anywhere near as angry as hers, but his face was just as severe. Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, he stared down at his girl while she studied her pajama pants.

"I don't appreciate being lied to." Softly and less accusing in tone, her voice still hid some anger but he pushed past it. Dropping to a crouching position in front of her, his head weaved to catch her gaze, waiting for further explanation of such a blatant accusation.

"I know who your mother is." Licking over her dry lips as she gave a very pointed look to her friend who's eyes were practically invisible, so dark they blended in perfectly with the pitch black study. Breaking their eye contact before she lost the will to stay upset, she looked back to the filing cabinet. "Seems my dad doesn't, though."

Like a light switch, he had gone from calm and collected, concerned and caring to pissed off and pacing. Moving in short strides between the couch and chair, his fists clenched tightly against his pants, his head shook as his voice stayed quiet, but was now full of rage.

"What is your problem? Why would you do that? I don't go through your shit!" Lie.

"I answer everything you ask me, whenever you ask me." Lie.

"I've never given you a reason not to trust me!" Half lie.

Immediately filled to the brim with guilt, Violet rose to meet him as he turned to walk back towards the chair. Reaching for his arm, she was immediately shot down as he shoved past her, turned and continued pacing. Slightly more determined, she followed him, raising her hands to his chest as he turned around at the couch. "Stop it! Just listen, I.."

Cut short as Tate's hands wrapped firmly around her wrists, even in the darkness she could tell his eyes were not those of the loving man from that afternoon. She froze, waiting for him to speak, but he only flung her onto the couch to allow himself to continue pacing. Confused but refusing to leave on these terms, Violet regained composure before standing up again. Third time was the charm?

"I'm not mad, Tate! I'm confused. I want to know everything about you, but you won't even tell me the fundamental things. I'm not mad.. I just need you to be straight with me." Trying to calm the boy with a gentle tone in her voice, she was pushed to the side again as he walked past her. If this was how he was going to react to asking why his mom's name was different on his information, there was no way in hell she was going to ask if he heard voices, or poked any way into his mental status. "Whatever."

She was smart enough to pick and choose her battles, and this one was not important enough to have Tate mad at her for days. Figuring she'd return to her bedroom and if he chose to follow, good. If not? No skin of her back. Her friend had stopped pacing at that point and was merely standing, a solid obstacle in the path of her and the door. Shoving past him like he had her, he had responded with a grab and a shove - nothing she wasn't used to by now with him. Staring up at the shadow that was once his face, Violet seemed unmoved by his actions despite his grip being a little more forceful than those before.

"Did you ever stop and use that pretty little of head of yours to think maybe, just maybe, I'm not lying to you? Maybe I'm not trying to shut you out because I don't want you to get close. Maybe there's a whole part of me that isn't worthy of you? So you're not scared of anything, that's fine. I am. I'm scared of losing you. I'm scared if I do tell you absolutely everything you'll run. I'm just scared, okay?"

Although his voice was deep and still a bit angry, his words couldn't have been sweeter. The moment his hands released her arms, Vi quickly wrapped them around his slender waist, holding him in his place as she continued to try and see his face. How could she be mad at him for withholding information when his reasoning was so damn sweet. Trying to tug him closer, she let out a laugh who's audibility startled even her. Pulling his body against hers as she leaned back against the wall, she couldn't help but smile as he refused to budge from his statue like position.

"Stop being a bitch and just look at me." Releasing one arm from his waist, Violet reached up to grab his jaw, forcing it from it's cocked position to look in her general direction (his eyes could have been shut for all she knew!). "Listen up cause I'm not going to keep repeating myself. You're worthy. You're wonderful. You're smart, and funny, and charming, and deep. Yeah, you're wounded and edgy and mysterious, but that just adds to how fucking sexy you can be. You're a good person, no matter what you may think. You're worthy, of me, of love, of happiness. Whatever the hell you want, okay? I love you. I'm not going anywhere. Even if i tried, clearly you run faster than me."

She had spoken so eloquently, she almost didn't catch it after she had said it. Speaking from the heart had it's advantages, such as the relaxed state her guy was now in, and the butterflies she felt dive bombing her stomach. The disadvantages weren't as cuddly. Her filter, her way of censoring what she was saying, was completely gone when she spoke the way her father had tried training her to growing up. 'Feelings, Vi, use feeling words. How does it make you feel?' Right now, with no response from Tate, she felt like she was going to vomit. Insert teenage girl moment. She didn't have many of them, but the ones she did have, she wasn't proud of.

"What?"

How words could somehow completely erase emotions at the drop of a hat was beyond him, but all the anger he had felt, all the frustration he had with this girl immediately melted away, falling between the floor boards as he replayed them at warp speed in his head. Blah blah, he was a good person. Yadda yadda, he was sexy. Okay, well maybe that part was part of what plastered that stupid grin on his face, but after that. Before the running comment. Did she just say she loved him? Even if he was hearing things, his anger was now completely gone.

"I did run track." Figuring repeating herself at this junction wasn't something she had planned on doing. Hell, she probably hadn't planned on dropping the bomb, but she had and he would let her forget until she was ready, even if her tone, the way she said it, how she enunciated it, it was permanently engraved in his mind already.

Pushing his head past her hand still holding his jaw, the shit eating grin still plastered to his face, Tate grabbed his girlfriend's thighs and jerked her entire body up in one swift motion. Girlfriend, that had a ring to it. Using the wall to help hold her up, his body pressed against hers, hips to hips, chest to chest, as his hands held firmly to her thin legs. Kissing slowly down the side of her neck, he let out a quiet laugh against her soft, hot skin before pulling his face away.

"Do you want to see how much stamina I have?" His flirtatious tone was answered by a smack to his chest. "Fine, fine."


	4. Chapter 4

Rules were apparently made to be broken. Who was Ben to ban Tate from the house when he was trying to get help? Ben was the one who needed help, Ben killed a girl, Tate just dreamed about it. The difference between Ben and Tate: action. That's how Ben justified it, anyway, as he allowed the teenager back into his home office for visits. Still, no part of him wanted this kid seeing his daughter. Maybe one day they'd find each other again. One day after Ben had cleared Tate of what mental illnesses he thought he could be suppressing. Many moons from now after the medications he insisted the boy take were a permanent part of his chemical make up. Even then it was scary, but he was a dad and no man would ever be good enough for his little girl. The two found another compromise: Tate could come to the house, but only when Violet was at school. After all, who wants to talk about their deep dark secrets over coffee? The whole world watching as they laid all their woes out on a picnic table? No, his couch was the place his patients needed to be.

Dragging his long fingers along the edge of the couch, the cool leather against the palm of his hands brought a devilish grin to his face. Ben watched and waited, Tate was clearly in his own zone and the longer he was there the less time he had to spend avoiding the topic the two of them both wanted to avoid. The elephant in the room which had very little to do with why he was there, but everything to do with why he was staying. Ben was no idiot, he knew Tate would like the other doctor he suggested more than him. He was unconventional and sarcastic, he was more experienced and could deal with the boy's problems better, possibly quicker than Ben was. The other doctor didn't have a daughter his patient was pining after, however, which was most likely the only reason Tate refused to go to him.

"What are you thinking about?" Ben mused as he watched the young man massage the couch. Part of him hated to ask, surely he'd have some spit fire comment about wanting to fuck his daughter on the couch. Surely Violet told Tate about catching Ben and Moira fooling around on the same couch. He was sure she told that boy everything.

"I love this couch." Lie. He loved what the couch reminded him of, but he couldn't tell Ben that. He loved how cool the leather felt, he had remembered thinking that the night before as his hot bare back pressed against it. He loved how his dick twitched even now, with just the memory, as it did before with anticipation. Violet wasn't here now to unbutton his pants and drag them down his muscular thighs, he swore he could still feel her though. Swallowing hard as he did his best to focus on Ben and not his daughter, Tate looked back up to the older man with an apologetic smile. "What are you thinking about?"

"We're here for you, Tate, not me. Now, you've been taking your medicine? I promise the likelihood of it causing you impotence at your age is highly unlikely." The question made Tate laugh. Nodding in response to the question, he had honestly cursed Ben previously, thinking he intentionally gave him drugs that would forbid him to get hard just so he wouldn't have to worry about the kid boning his daughter. He had started taking the medicine obediently after the good doctor caught him in a lie, and after his scare on Halloween he was so close to stopping. Watching his daughter get herself off in the implied privacy of her bedroom, he realized the beach was a fluke and his manhood was safe from Viagra.

"And you've been responding to it all right? Have you seen any change in your thoughts? Are you still wanting to cleanse the Earth?" He almost cringed each time he asked Tate a question these days. No part of him wanted to be pissed off by a snarky teenager's smart comments. Even less of him wanted to think about the boy and his little princess. Maybe they had actually taken to heart his demands to not see each other. Violet had been in the house more often than not, and since Tate didn't go to school they couldn't fraternize there. Where else was there to sneak around together?

"Big change." Nodding as he gripped the edge of the couch firmly, his eyes grew heavy for the moment as he drifted back to the prior night. Not even 12 hours ago he was on this same couch, gripping the same edge, same heavy eyes, and faint breathing. His thoughts? He wanted to tell Ben how amazing his daughter was. How fantastic her mouth felt on his dick. How talented her tongue was, how hot her lack of experience made him. He thought that if he shared what was really going through his mind, Dr. Harmon would surely set him on fire.

"Haven't thought about that since..." Halloween. Sighing quietly, he shrugged, figuring his memory was fucked either way, no sense in giving Ben satisfaction of thinking he had assisted in making some kind of break through. "I've been thinking about the future. What I want out of life.. how to get it. I really want out of this town, away from all the shit it holds, the assholes who infest it."

"Are things still not improving with your mother?" Ben's question immediately brought visible anger to Tate's face. He never liked upsetting his patients, but without the tough questions the people he worked with couldn't make strides to improve themselves. "I know it's not pleasant, but we have to get to the ugly stuff to help you."

"She's still a cock sucker." Shrugging as he did his best to shift his thought process away from his mother and back to Violet, he only pissed himself off further. Thinking about his girlfriend in the same sentence as his whore of a mother was just upsetting. Violet deserved only the best, and Constance deserved.. well, besides a knife across her throat, she needed to butt the hell out of his life. "I still wish she would have left instead of my father. Does that happen often? Why do the bad things stay when the good ones are given the opportunity to be happy away?"

Once their hour was up, Tate sat on the couch for a while longer as Ben cleaned up his things - setting the recorder in it's respective drawer, adding his notes to the boy's file and slipping it back into the filing cabinet, turning his light off on the desk as this was his last session. It seemed weird not leaving with Tate this time. he was thankful, confused but thankful, that Vivien had allowed him to come back in the house. Granted he spent most of his time in the guest bedroom (a pissed off wife was one thing, but a pissed off hormonal wife was all sorts of hell for him), it was nice to be 'home'. Glancing back from his desk, he saw the empty couch the same time he heard the front door close. Smiling to himself, Ben glanced back to the filing cabinet. Tate was fucked up, there was no doubt, but by no means was he a bad person. There was a kindness to him, underneath all his darkness, it seemed as though maybe they were more alike than Ben had originally thought. It was weird, associating with someone who was so mentally disturbed. What did that say about him? He was the accomplice to murder, not Tate. The more he tried to mentally talk down all the reasons the kid was worthy, his stomach just couldn't handle the idea of him courting his daughter. No matter how happy she seemed to be since he started coming around. She'd find happiness elsewhere, once she graduated and moved back to the East and went to college maybe. Tate? Ben was hopeful that the young man would find his purpose in life, far far away from Violet, and find someone just as misunderstood and wounded to connect and fall in love with.


	5. Chapter 5

Hurriedly opening the door, Tate slipped through it and quietly shut and locked it behind him. He was the master of stealth, though Violet was definitely a fast learner and was starting to become quite the sneak. Turning around, an immediate grin plastered itself across his face as his eyes fell on Violet sitting in her bed reading a book. Letting her toss it at the foot of her bed as she hopped out and happily crossed the room, automatically wrapping her arms around the boy's waist, face pressed comfortably against his chest. It felt like home.

"That did not feel like an hour."

Vi had changed her class schedule, switching AP English with study hall so she could leave school an hour early, thus getting her home at the same time as Tate was to be finishing his session with her father. Today she had a half day, which most kids would relish in, but it only made the time drag on at a painfully slow pace.

"Did you have any phenomenal break throughs?" Returning to her bed, Violet cracked the nearest window before lighting a cigarette. Thank God for no screens and the invention of air fresheners. One day her mother would realize what she was doing in there, but she hoped it would take the dense broad at least until the day she left for college.

"It's hard to channel your inner demons when all you can focus on is sex." Discarding his cardigan, finding it's respective place over the arm of a chair as he stopped to toe off the back of his ancient Chucks. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, his eyes went to the smoke rings forming outside of his girlfriend's mouth. Oh her mouth..

"God! Shut up." Blowing excess smoke in his direction, she couldn't help but laugh as her eyes rolled. "You're fucking ridiculous."

"You know what's ridiculous? This fucking town. Let's get out of here."

Since when did he propose they do ANYTHING outside of the house, Halloween aside? Rolling her eyes without even giving the comment a second thought, Violet set her cigarette in the ash tray on her nightstand to free her hands to pull off a layer of clothing. One down, three to go. Back in Boston she would have had six layers on this time of year, but the lack of seasons definitely had it's advantages in this town. Raising an eyebrow curiously as Tate plopped onto the bed next to her, grasping her hand closest to him in an urgent matter, she reached for her abandoned cigarette with the free one.

"I'm serious, Vi. I want to be rid of this place. I want a fresh start. I want freedom from it all. Let's leave.. we can go to Seattle? Seattle has seasons. It's like Boston I'm sure, only rainier. We could start our life together there."

As hopeful as his voice sounded with the prospect of their freedom, they both knew it was impossible for their own reasons. For Violet, it was Vivien. As often as she wanted to stone her mother, she still loved her more than life itself. For Tate, it was literally impossible for him to go anywhere. Still, no one could stop them from dreaming. What was life without hope? Miserable, no doubt. They deserved some hope, even if it was as plausible as the Harmon's marriage having a happy ending.

"Did Kurt Cobain's spirit get trapped in your body when he died? Geez." Violet wasn't as eager to play pretend. It was just depressing to imagine a perfect future for them when she knew nothing was set in stone. Knowing how her stubbornness would depress her boyfriend, however, made her give up and throw him a bone. "Let's go to Wyoming? I'm tired of busy cities, we need lots of farm land and buffalo. We could get a horse. You'd look pretty sassy in some overalls.. we could change our names to Billy Bob and Barbara Jean."

"I'm more of a Beaucephus.." Reaching for her cigarette, Tate quickly put it out and lightly pushed the girl onto her back, sliding into the space next to her as he did so. He knew she was just playing along to make him happy, and he appreciated it. Laying on his side, he continued smiling lazily at his girlfriend as his hands held securely onto her waist. "Barbara Jean.. wasn't that Marilyn Monroe's real name? You could totally be a Marilyn. I could be your JFK."

"Well that just ends badly for everyone. Me with a boob job and you with a bullet in the back of your head.. it's almost as tragic as Kurt and Courtney."

Stopping herself as thought about both couples, her eyebrows knit together as her brain processed all it's useless information. It seemed as though everyone, famous or not, had their indiscretions. Courtney with Billy Corgan. Marilyn with a married JFK. Did anyone not cheat on their spouse? Tate was right, it was a filthy god damn horror show they lived in.

Her thought process hit a brick wall as Tate's lips pressed firmly against hers. She didn't need plans for a future, she didn't care about the future. Not right now. Right now was here and fucking beautiful. Reaching up to hold onto his neck, Vi pushed her small frame against his, desperately seeking as much as contact as she could get with their clothes on. Rolling over as Tate's body moved, pining her's against the bed, her head turned, breaking the kiss as she heard her mother's voice in the hallway, quickly followed by her father's. A heavy sigh signified her annoyance of the increasingly frequent arguments that filled her household.

"We're never going to be like that." His words were confident but quiet against her ear. They brought a smile to her thin lips because of the truth they held. His adamant tone made the comment sound like it was gospel. "We actually love each other. We won't be like them."

His words caught her off guard, even after he had stopped talking, her face was painted with all the confusion she could show. He loved her too? Licking over her lips, Violet raised her head to meet his lips, kissing them softly before falling back against her pillow, her eyes as serious as her intentions.

"Show me."

Their first date, she thought she was ready. After he saved her, she assured herself she was really ready. This moment, though, it made the other times seem insignificant in comparison. They clearly loved each other, they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. Why shouldn't they share all of themselves with each other? She was convinced, they were young, in love, ridiculously reckless, worthy of having books written about them. Romeo and Juliet would have nothing on them.

"You said something wasn't going to happen every time I was in your room.. you liiie." Smirking as his hands tugged at the sides of her shirts, Tate moved his body away long enough to strip the girl down to her bra. Leaning down to kiss her shoulder, his eyes shifted to the night stand as Vivien's door slammed down the hall. He felt so badly for not being able to be by Violet's side constantly. He wanted to be a continuous reminder that love existed. It didn't have to be painful and angry, it could be honest and exhilarating. "I don't want to have sex just yet.. I want it to be really special. Your first time is supposed to be special."

Sitting up, Tate looked down at his half naked girlfriend. She was gorgeous, absolutely stunning in a very under appreciated way. From the first time he saw her he wanted to be inside of her, but the more he got to know her the more he wanted to be patient with her. A girl who cut her wrists over her bathroom sink wasn't the type of girl you fucked out of convenience. She wasn't the kind of girl you 'fucked', not the first time anyway. He wanted it to be intimate and careful, sure he'd probably give in and be a little rougher than he'd intended, but he wanted her to remember her first time as being something she did out of love, not rebellion.

"You're seriously going to give me a fucking complex if you keep shutting me down every time I try to get in your pants."

Sighing quietly, she knew she couldn't be too pissed. She thought she was ready, but how could she be 100% sure? Turning onto her side to face her opened window, she allowed herself to sulk for a moment. She had every right to! She was a horny teenager with a very attractive boyfriend and all she wanted to do was have sex. Making it special was probably important too, or so she'd try to convince herself. Feeling her annoyance fade as Tate's arm wrapped itself around her waist, his clothed chest pressing itself against her bare back, Vi grinned as his lips pressed against her scapula.

"You know I wanted to have sex with you from the first time I saw you, don't even play stupid."

Randomly placing soft kisses over her shoulder and back where he could reach easily without having to move, Tate lightly traced her belly button with a rough finger tip. He knew she was most likely a little pissed off, mentally prepping herself for sex and then not getting it, but she'd thank him later. Gently gripping the girl's hip, he pulled her closer still, stopping only when a small surprised gasp barely left her lips. Using his growing erection as proof that he definitely found the young girl worthy of fornicating.

Reaching down for his hand, Violet found no reason in why her anger towards the situation couldn't turned into something else. Aiding his hand in shoving it's way past the waistband of her ankle length skirt, into her underwear, her fingers forced Tate's hand to aggressively cup her groin which was already hotter than any other part of her and increasingly moist. Pulling her own hand back, her hips rolled forward, doing her best to grind her aching mound against his warm palm, urging his fingers to push past and into her. Reaching up to slide into her bra, cupping her own breast, Violet found something strangely erotic about not being able to see the person who was doing unspeakable things to her. She could be just as fucked up as he was, why the hell not?

"After I take your virginity, the first few times are going to be slow, I don't want to hurt this perfect pussy of yours. Once you're used to me, though, it's game on." His voice was deep, husky against her ear as his lips brushed against her earlobe. Letting out a breathy gasp as his fingers thrust themselves deep inside of her, Violet did her best to stay quiet, knowing the walls were paper thin and the last thing she needed was one of her parents pounding on the door demanding to know what was making her scream.

"I'm going to fuck you everywhere I get the chance. Bent over that chair over there," Letting his eyes glance to the plush brown chair in a niche in her room, his eyes closed as he focused on the heat his fingers were being suffocated by. Groaning quietly against her shoulder before gently biting it, his chin tilted up again to kiss the side of Vi's neck. "On your father's desk in the study. In the shower.."

His words were turning her on almost as much as his fingers were. Releasing her hand's grip, Violet abandons her breast and reaches down to grab Tate's forearm, holding onto it tightly, nails digging into his pale skin. Begging him without words to not stop, Vi had to turn her head, pressing her face into her pillow, teeth digging into the plush case as her arousal grew closer and closer to it's peak. She hoped he didn't stop talking - it was one thing to not see who was fucking her with their fingers, but knowing it was him wasn't good enough, his voice, his words, they all made it so much better.

"God. I can't wait to press your wet body against the shower wall. You do look pretty sexy from back here.. that ass, your smooth back. I love it. I'll apologize in advance if I hurt you. There's no way to gently do it in the shower." Licking over his lips, Tate shook his head as his stupid grin continued to grow, just as his cock did. "I want to bend you over and hit that perfect pussy from behind. I'm going to hit it so hard each time you'll feel like you might break, but when the pain subsides it'll be the best feeling ever. You'll be begging me to pound my big hard dick into you even harder after that. I bet you're going to be insatiable."

The muscles spasming around his fingers, drenching them even more, made his dick twitch again like it had in Ben's office. Sighing against her shoulder, Tate didn't stop, he wanted to make her cum again. Maybe see just how many times he could get her off before she cried from exhaustion. Laughing, almost cruel, against her skin, he pulled his fingers out, turning his attention to her clitoris only as he continued speaking against her skin.

"Even in the shower I'm going to want to clean you off before doing it all over and over. Licking your throbbing cunt after I cum inside you, only to fuck you again with tongue. I can't wait to see you beg for me to stop teasing you, sucking on your clit until you cum for me again." Vigorously rubbing his calloused finger tip over the small ball of nerves, his breath is jaded, but no where near as badly as hers. Biting Violet's shoulder gently again as her muscles tightened around her fingers once more, Tate kissed his teeth marks. "Mmm, yes. Cum for me, Vi."

Shaking as she did so, Violet was doing everything in her power to remember how to breathe steadily. Her body was aching in such a good way despite it being tired and her pussy aching, she was torn as to if she wanted to stop him or allow him to keep going. Loosening her grip on his forearm, she went with the latter, figuring if she came again she'd sure scream loud enough that even her pillow couldn't muffle her sounds. God she couldn't wait til she had the freedom to scream as loud as she wanted.

Rolling over once Tate's hands were out of her underwear, she turned over in bed, cheeks flushing even more as his fingers went straight to his mouth, sucking off all the fluid she'd left on them. Shaking her head, Violet pushed her hair away from her face as her body inched closer to his. Licking over her lips before leaning in, she aggressively kissed him, shoving her tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss but mostly to taste herself on him. There was something strangely erotic about how she tasted on his lips. Grinning as she pulled away, Violet reached up to push his shaggy hair away from his tired eyes.

"I really love you."

"I really love you more."

_***The end***_


End file.
